The Legend of Alaric Skywalker
by Ace Venom
Summary: Set during the First Great Schism, a barbarian named Alaric, the progenitor of the Skywalker line, is thrust into the greater galactic stage through the actions of the Dark Jedi led by Xendor and Set.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Star Wars is the property of Lucasfilm Limited. All characters, locations, objects and concepts are used without permission. No profit is being made.

**The Legend of Alaric Skywalker**

**Episode I – The Shadow Kingdom**

It is a time of great lawlessness in the galaxy. Twenty-four thousand years before the birth of Luke Skywalker, the ancient Jedi Order has been divided by former Jedi Master XENDOR's conversion to the Dark Side of the Force. The young Galactic Republic has been pushed to its knees by the assault of Xendor's LEGIONS OF LETTOW.

Beneath the eyes of all on the planet Tyramis, young Alaric Skywalker with sword in hand is about to take his first steps into the galaxy at large. The Skywalker legend begins here in the turmoil of the Great Schism…

**Chapter 1**

Winter was a harsh reminder of the realities of life. Beyond the blooms of spring and the harvests of the fall, the snow and ice drove many animals into southern lands away from the mountains the Keldan people called home. The Keldans were humans, though their legends told of being brought to their new world by a god from the sky. For over a thousand years, the Keldans warred with the Vesuvians to the south and the Rus to the north.

The Keldans were considered barbaric by the Vesuvians who chose to live in the fertile valleys of the south and build great cities. They were good farmers, but also some of the most feared hunters on the planet. A Keldan never died of starvation unless he was lazy. Their skills with the horse and weaponry prevented them from being conquered by their neighbors. Most were content to leave the Keldan tribes in peace, considering them mad barbarians who chose to live where they did.

At least that was the status quo until a Vesuvian king bent on subjugating Keldan tribes so he could conquer the Rus arrived in the Keldan lands. King Romulus V was considered a great warrior among his people and it was even rumored that he held the favor of the dark wizard Set. Survivors of Vesuvian raids told tales of sorcery driving the king's war machine. The Skywalker Tribe was preparing to defend a mountain pass when a scout arrived on horseback to relay the news.

The snow was over a month old and refused to melt. It was difficult to cover tracks in the snow, so Keldan scouts had the advantage and hoped to gain the element of surprise. Chief Balti was still awaiting word from other chieftains of an alliance, but he could not wait any longer. The need to make a stand against the Vesuvians was urgent and could not be postponed. If the mountain pass was not held, the ancestral lands of the Keldan peoples would be laid bare before the invaders.

Balti was a man who stood over two meters tall, broad chested and shouldered. He wore animal skins and crude steel armor forged by the blacksmiths. His steel helmet covered his mane of blond hair. His blue-gray eyes surveyed the pass like a seasoned hunter waiting for the element of surprise. He wore a sword and dagger at his side, but carried a slugthrower in his hands. The secrets of black powder were long known to the Keldans, having been handed to them by their ancestors. Only in drastic moments was the knowledge of black powder ever employed, but every Keldan man knew how to use a slugthrower in case that moment was necessary.

Beside him, his only son and heir Alaric, a young man of eighteen seasons, dismounted his black horse and gazed to the distance. He was a handsome man, larger than his father and stood slightly taller than him. His features were identical, complete with the blond hair and blue-gray eyes. Alaric had command presence like his father Balti, but something was different about him. The medicine man Loric spoke of Alaric's strange intuitive abilities. If Balti had another son, Alaric probably would have trained with Loric.

But Balti's wife was barren, something the chief discovered a year after their marriage. Loric claimed that she would never conceive, but a miracle happened five years later. Alaric was born. Loric spoke of an ancient prophecy handed down to him from medicine men of years past, but Balti cared little for the prophecy and adored his son and watched him grow into the most powerful warrior he ever saw.

"What do you see, son?" Balti asked Alaric. He dismounted his white steed and took his place by his son. Keldans were in hiding in the pass, waiting to ambush oncoming Vesuvians.

"They will not pass," Alaric said to his father. Alaric appeared confident, which soothed Balti's anxieties. "Our scouts told us that this is a small raiding party. They have no wizards with them."

"Then we should win this battle," Balti said to his son. "This pass is all that stands between them and our ancestral lands."

Alaric stared beyond the pass to the southwest, where a Vesuvian fort was rumored to exist. Balti had plans of assaulting the fort once word of an alliance reached his ears and he had the Keldans to lead into battle. Alaric knew that assaulting a Vesuvian fortress was no easy task, but he had scouts in the area. Alaric made his father proud.

"We should take our positions," Balti said to his son. "They will be upon us soon."

"I agree," Alaric commented. "Let us make haste."

Within the hour, Balti could see the raiding party approaching the mountain pass. The Vesuvians could not have brought more than thirty men on horseback. It would be a quick an easy battle for the Keldans. Balti shouldered his slugthrower. Alaric was already doing the same. Balti took a moment to observe his son to seek any signs that they were in danger. Alaric's face was as hard as iron, unmoving and solid.

When the raiding party was coming through the mountain pass, their leader, a man on a black horse wearing the dark armor of the Vesuvians stopped them. Balti knew the man felt something was amiss and he was more than happy to oblige his suspicions. The chieftain took the first shot, hitting the man in the neck and dropping him from his horse.

The Vesuvians immediately panicked as they sought to discover the source of the sniper. A volley of slugs from the hidden Keldans began raining down upon the raiders. Horses and soldiers fell to the snow, staining it red with their blood. Many horses ran away from the battle after losing their riders, either heading back towards the Vesuvian fort to the southwest or galloping into the ancestral lands of the Keldans where they would become prizes of war.

Balti and Alaric led a chorus of battle cries as the slaughter of the Vesuvian invaders continued. Some Vesuvians managed to kill some Keldans with lucky shots. One of the slugs bounced near Balti's head and embedded itself in the rock and snow. He swore and cut the offender down with his slugthrower. Only one Vesuvian managed to ride his horse out of the mountain pass, returning to the southwest.

"Woe to all you who invade the sacred lands!" Balti screamed, earning a chorus of cheers from his people.

* * *

The Vesuvian fortress protected the river, which would permit supplies to arrive once it was no longer frozen. A small community had formed within the protection of the fortress for those brave enough to endure the cruel winters of northern Tyramis. Blacksmiths, gunsmiths and others were needed to maintain an invading army. Supplies from the south were due. Many Vesuvian soldiers once supplemented on local game, but it was becoming scarce.

King Romulus and his white steed traveled through the fortress. He was a reasonably tall man of just below two meters and it was rumored that Keldan blood flowed through his veins due to his features. However, he had brown hair and green eyes common to the Vesuvian people.

Romulus wore the dark armor of his comrades and was considered one of the greatest swordsmen of his age. The only distinguishing factor was the crest of his family, a golden dragon in a shield, on his chest plate. He rode into battle with his soldiers, winning over the common enlisted man with his bravery. Even before he made acquaintance with the Dark Jedi from beyond Tyramis, Romulus was a feared warrior king who subjugated the southern lands and ended the pirate threat to his seaports.

A dark skinned man in a black robe rode beside King Romulus. He was Set, former Jedi Master from the land of Thebes to the east of Vesuvius and disciple of the Dark Lord Xendor. He was triumvir with Xendor and Arden Lyn and one of the most feared men in the galaxy. The return to his homeworld was driven by a desire to acquire the lost Jewels of Tython which rested somewhere in the ancestral Keldan lands. For that reason, Thebes allied with Vesuvius, a move that unnerved many in the king's court.

Set was pleased to know that the ambition of the Vesuvian king was easy to manipulate to his advantage. Xendor was winning the war against the Republic and the Jedi and the Jewels of Tython would give him the edge he needed to overcome his enemies.

Black armored soldiers on patrol passed by the king and his dark companion. The fort was bustling with activity as snowflakes began to fall from the sky. Snow was alien to Set's desert home, though he encountered it as a Jedi on Tython when he was a boy. The Keldans were more suited to winter combat than the Vesuvian invaders, but King Romulus made sure that his soldiers had the appropriate wool clothing for winter warfare. Combined with Set's command over the Force, the campaign was a massive success.

Set looked to his left to see a scout on a brown horse galloping towards the king. Romulus held out his hand, recognizing the young man from the small scout party that he detached to investigate different mountain paths.

The scout stopped his horse as he pulled up beside his king. "King Romulus, the Keldans ambushed us," the scout reported. "I am the only survivor. There must have been hundreds of them firing on us from the mountain pass to the northeast."

"The Keldans have been fighting more ferociously every day," the king told the soldier. "Thank you for your information. Your comrades did not die in vain."

"You're welcome, my king," the scout said to Romulus.

"You are dismissed," Romulus told the scout. "Get yourself a hot meal and some rest."

The scout rode towards the stables, leaving Set alone with the king. "He and his scouts failed you," he commented.

"We will not discuss this here, wizard," Romulus said sharply to the Dark Jedi. "If you wish to criticize the way I treat my soldiers, then you will do so in private where my men cannot hear you."

Set scowled at Romulus. He was a good man despite his thirst for blood and conquest. He was the sort of king that commanded the respect of his soldiers and subjects. It was a weakness Set despised, but he was forced to collaborate with the man at the present time. Xendor was planning a major offensive and needed most of his troops. As far as Xendor was concerned, Tyramis was a backwater world in the grand scheme of the war.

"If that is what you wish," Set told the king. "But be careful that you do not treat your soldiers too well or they will go soft." Set took his horse away from Romulus, leaving the Vesuvian king speechless.

* * *

Alaric slept in his tent at the Skywalker encampment, but he did not rest well. Sweat collected on his forehead despite the bitter cold of the winter night. Sweat was a dangerous thing as it could threaten hypothermia, which killed more men in the winter than wolves. It was not the fault of young Alaric, but it was a dream.

In his dream, Alaric walked through his village. Huts and tents were in flames and smoldering ash littered the ground alongside slain Keldans. The Skywalker village was within the ancestral lands and its destruction meant the invaders had come. The tattered Vesuvian banner hung from a pole, a golden dragon ensnared in a shield, but something else was there. Beside the Vesuvian banner hung another one of a snake devouring its own tail, one he recognized to be the banner of Thebes. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly and screamed at the heavens.

Alaric awoke with a start, panting. It was not the first dream of its kind he ever had. The first were of his mother before her sudden death. He wiped the sweat from his brown and rubbed it on the bearskin blanket before he pulled the blanket from his body. He quickly donned his tunic and sat quietly for a few minutes. He needed to return to the village to speak to Loric about his dream, but he could not abandon his father in his time of need.

Despite this, Alaric knew he was due for a vision quest, one every young Keldan male took when he came of adult age. He never took one due to the necessities of war and Balti's demands that Alaric remain by his side during the campaign. Alaric realized he could use the necessity of the vision quest as a reason to get his father to permit him to return to the village. It was only a day's ride to his village, but Alaric could make it home faster than most riders. He was one of the best horsemen in his tribe.

At daybreak, Alaric emerged from his tent in heavier clothing. The campfires were still going and warriors were already performing their daily tasks. Alaric found his father in the chief's tent. Balti smiled at his son and beckoned him to enter.

"Come, my son," Balti said. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did not," Alaric said to his father before he sat across from the chief. "I had a vision of our village's destruction."

"A dream?" Balti asked his son, his cheerful mood suddenly overcome by dread. "I remember you told me of one before your mother died."

Alaric sighed. "I cannot stay, father," he told him.

Balti glared at his son. "I will not have my son leave like a coward!" he growled. "We have time to fortify our position here before the spring when the Vesuvians will attack us. The tribes will be allied against the threat by then. You must stay here to help me."

"I have yet to take my vision quest," Alaric told him. "I am three months overdue. You promised Loric I would return. I also need Loric's help to understand this dream. It greatly disturbs me, father."

Balti's demeanor softened before he sighed. "I did make that promise," he said. "You performed to well at the Gorgoron Pass before the snow fell that I was compelled to ask you to remain with us. Then you led our men against the raiding party that assaulted the Sunrider Tribe before the outer forests fell. You are a great warrior, Alaric. The men will follow you to the gates of hell."

"If it is your wish that I remain, I will," Alaric said.

Balti held up his left hand. "Go," he said to his son. "What good is this war to preserve our people if we surrender our traditions?"

Alaric stood and gazed down at his father. "I will return," he said. "I promise."

"May the gods be with you, my son," Balti said.

"And with you," Alaric said before he exited the tent. The young man inhaled the cool morning air before he sought his horse. He was determined to reach the village and speak to Loric. If there was one rumor that was spoken about the medicine man, it was that he never slept. There would be no time constraints for his visit.

Alaric mounted his black horse and commanded it to move towards the north. His village was one day's ride away and Alaric was determined to make it in record time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **See first chapter.

**The Legend of Alaric Skywalker**

**Chapter 2**

The village of the Skywalker tribe was covered in white snow. The frigid air rarely rose above freezing during the day, but Keldans were a hardy people. As Alaric's horse approached the village, the barbarian could discern the houses and smoke rising from chimneys from beyond the gate. The village was nestled in a corner near the forest. It was a sea of white and green beyond and Alaric knew from experience that deer and bear were plentiful in the winter season.

Alaric brought his black horse to a stop near the primitive wood and steel gate. The gatekeeper was an elderly man huddled in a small hut. His long hair and beard were as white as the snow outside and he wore thick winter clothing made of wool. A pot of soup bubbled over a fire inside the hut, its scents greeting Alaric's nose.

"Gregor," Alaric said to the gatekeeper.

Gregor looked up from his soup to gaze at Alaric. A large smile appeared on the old man's face. "How goes the war, Alaric?" the gatekeeper inquired.

"We defeated a group of scouts at the pass, but there are more Vesuvians beyond the mountains," Alaric told him.

Gregor snorted. He was an old man who once was an adventurer. His stories entertained the children of the village. The gatekeeper once told tales of magnificent Vesuvian cities and the dark wizards of Thebes, but he was content with village life at the present. He had little use for the decadence of the Vesuvians and what it would bring to the ancestral lands of the Keldans.

"Vile dogs," Gregor said. "I never met a Vesuvian I could trust."

Alaric asked, "What about the girls?"

"They're all sluts!" Gregor barked before he coughed a deep cough. When he calmed his cough, he asked Alaric, "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to speak to Loric," Alaric replied. "It is an urgent matter."

Gregor pulled the large steel lever to his right and the gate to the village slowly opened. "That man's a crazy old wizard," he told Alaric. "I wouldn't put much stock in what he says."

"You don't put much stock in what anyone says," Alaric told Gregor before riding into the village. He kept his horse to a trot as he passed homes and shops. The scent of stews filled his nose and the sound of steel being pounded by the local blacksmith filled his ears as he approached the shop. The blacksmith was a large man with a giant chest and arms dressed in bearskin. He looked at Alaric and grunted his greeting.

Alaric brought his horse to a stop next to a single house apart from the others. It was no larger than any other home in the village, but it had the mark of a red sun, the sign of a Keldan chieftain. He was home. Alaric then moved his horse along to the stables near his father's house. It was mostly empty since most of the men were off to war, but a few horses remained.

Thurin, the stablemaster approached Alaric as he dismounted. His gray hair spoke one reason he was not at war, but it was also his limp. "Alaric," he said. "What brings you back to the village?"

"I've come to speak to Loric," Alaric told Thurin.

Thurin said nothing as he escorted Alaric's horse to its final destination. Alaric emerged from the stables and began walking towards Loric's hut. No homes were near it. It was a normal looking house for the village, but most people chose not to live near Loric. At one time, Loric was a woods dweller because people feared him. It was only because of Alaric's father that he now lived in the village. Some people in the village did not trust him.

As Alaric approached the door, Loric opened it and stepped outside. A long mane of gray hair covered the man's head and he wore deerskin clothing over his body. He smiled, revealing missing teeth. "I sensed you were coming," Loric said. "Come in. I have stew."

Moments later, Alaric was inside eating a bowl of the hearty stew prepared by the medicine man. Loric's home was a mess. Shelves were covered with glass bottles filled with different solid or liquid concoctions. Two tables were cluttered with glass bottles and other containers.

"You had a dream," Loric said. Alaric nodded. Not much was lost on the old man.

"I dreamed the village was destroyed," Alaric said. "I saw the standards of Vesuvius and Thebes over the ruins."

Loric scratched his stubbled chin. "Strange," he admitted. "I sensed a dark presence behind this war. The Vesuvians usually never come this far north unless it is to trade. The stories that have been circulating mention a dark wizard that travels with the Vesuvian army."

"Have you ever visited Thebes, Loric?" Alaric asked before he took a drink of ale from his mug.

Loric sighed. "Long ago when I was a young wizard," he said. "Some of the things they know are frightening. I vowed not to use those techniques, but I collected a few books on their spells and information on Theben alchemy."

Loric leaned forward and asked, "What horrors have the Theban's conjured?"

"There are far worse things out there than Theban sorcery," Loric replied. "I've seen Thebans create lightning and manipulate powerful infernos. Some twisted sorcerers have used their alchemy to create beasts like giant snakes and flying dragons."

"But you said there are things far worse," Alaric said. "What did you mean?"

Loric once again sighed. "You were always a curious young man and I would have taught you things if your father permitted it," he said. "Long ago, a ship from the skies came down. One of the men was wearing a brown cloak. I was just a small boy then. He said I had the Force in me and I could be trained to become a Jedi."

"What's a Jedi?" inquired Alaric.

"The Jedi are an order of wizards who tap into the Force, the energy field that surrounds us, binds us and the entire galaxy together," he replied. "I was raised on a world called Tython, but my heart yearned to return home. I learned the ways of the Force and I studied under a man named Rustov."

"That name sounds Rus," Alaric commented.

"He was Rus," Loric replied. "He also taught me traditional medicine, which came in handy when I returned home."

"Why did you come back?" Alaric asked.

"A Jedi Master named Xendor discovered a dark power, something Theban sorcerers have known about for years," he replied. "Many Jedi followed Xendor despite the warnings from other Jedi. A third of the Jedi Order declared their allegiance to Xendor and he sought to have his teachings accepted by the Jedi Order. When they refused and told him to reject this power, he rebelled and took his renegade Jedi with him."

"The initial battles were horrible," Loric continued. "The powers that Xendor wields are unnatural. He managed to convince a third of the Jedi Order to follow him, including my beloved Nomi. While relationships among Jedi were not encouraged, they were not forbidden either. She was so enthusiastic about Xendor and wanted to follow him. I wanted to remain loyal to the Jedi and she begged me not to be a coward. I refused and told her that Xendor's path would only lead to destruction."

"What happened?" asked Alaric.

"She attacked me and I was forced to kill her," Loric said sadly. "At that point, I could not forgive myself for what I had done and I fled. I returned to Tyramis and travelled the world before returning to the ancestral lands."

Alaric could say nothing and he simply pondered the old man's story, wondering what it had to do with his vision.

"Xendor is the only explanation for what is occurring here," Loric told him. "An ancient treasure rests in these lands, one that was lost to time. If Xendor ever got his hands on him, the galaxy would face an unprecedented crisis."

"What is this treasure?" the young barbarian asked.

Loric said, "The Jewels of Tython. They were created by the ancient Jedi and could amplify their power through the Force. They were an instrument of healing and peace, but in the wrong hands, they could be devastating weapons of war."

"Where are these jewels?" Alaric inquired.

"They are beyond the forest near the border of the Rus lands," Loric told him. "I found them years ago and hid them in an old tomb. A great kingdom once ruled over these lands and it has been forgotten to history. You will need my help if you want to keep the jewels from Xendor."

"I came because I had not yet taken my vision quest," Alaric told him.

"Vision quest?" Loric said. "That would be useless for you, which is why I did not object to you going to war. The Force is strong in you, Alaric. I would train you if you wish."

"Me?" Alaric asked. "But I'm the chieftain's son. I have to defend the village. I can't become a Jedi or whatever it is you want me to do."

"I can't do this without your help," Loric told him. "I made the mistake of not returning the jewels to the Jedi Order. Xendor would have the Vesuvians scour these lands and destroy everything in the quest to find them. They will sense the jewels have been moved and it will draw them away from our lands."

"Fine," Alaric said. "I will help you."

"Good," Loric said before he rose from the floor and walked to a chest at the far side of the room. "I am too old to wield this, so I thought you should have it when you were ready." Loric opened the chest and pulled an old sword from it. Loric removed the blade from its sheath.

Alaric could feel a strange power emitting from the sword. It was well crafted and the hilt had ornate designs that included dragons. "It's not just a regular sword," he said.

"No," Loric said. "It was my Jedi blade. Every Jedi must forge his own sword. It has a special connection with the Jedi, but anyone can use it." He delivered the sword to Alaric, who took it and inspected it before sheathing the blade.

"Let us make haste," Alaric said. "We have little time."

Loric and Alaric rode through the woods and across the snowy fields, passing villages on their way to the tomb. They camped along the way to rest themselves and their horses. Dried venison and berries kept them fed during the trip. Within two days, they reached more mountainous terrain as they approached the borderlands. They were always on alert for Rus raiders.

The finally reached a spot near the mountains where a mound with a locked door stood in their way. The men tied their horses to trees and approached the tomb. Loric took the point and stepped in front of the door.

"I sealed the door with the Force," Loric told Alaric. "I couldn't let just anyone in." He held out his hands and the door shook. It opened down the middle and the halves of the door slid into the mound.

"Amazing!" Alaric exclaimed because he had never witnessed such a feat before.

"Just be careful in here," Loric said with staff in hand. "Old ghosts have a tendency to linger." Loric's staff was made of wood and had a red crystal embedded at the top.

For the last couple of days, Loric gave Alaric bare bones instructions in the Force to help him expand his perceptions. Alaric was barely trained and could not sense deeply into the Force as Loric could. The comparison was like a campfire to a burning star. Alaric reasoned it would take years to reach a level of knowledge where he would be comfortable using the Force, but Loric told him that his potential seemed limitless.

The tomb was dimly lit by a technology Alaric did not know. When he asked Loric, the Jedi told him that they were glow lamps embedded in the ceiling. According to Loric, unlocking the door might have reactivated a generator. Alaric was determined to learn many things other than the Force.

"Who was buried here?" Alaric asked Loric as they walked through the tomb.

"I don't know," Loric replied. "It had to have been someone of high rank. I was unable to decipher the writings of this civilization and I could not identify the bones. When I first came here, droids were standing guard."

"Droids?" Alaric questioned.

"Mechanical life forms," Loric explained. "The droid technology was more advanced than anything we know. I had to destroy them with the Force. Whoever left those droids here at this tomb had something they wanted to keep hidden."

"Why would anyone want to build such abominations?" Alaric asked.

"Droids are used for different tasks," he said. "They can do certain jobs that us flesh and blood types cannot."

The men came to a fork in the road. Loric pointed to the right hand path with his staff. "There." Alaric followed the old Jedi into the depths of the tomb. He saw littered rocks and metal parts lying along the way. Loric apparently fought a droid in that location. When they reached a circular chamber, they stopped.

Two water fountains sat along the wall on either side of the room, but water did not flow through them anymore. The basins were empty. A metal box rested at the center of the room and Alaric approached it. "Are these the jewels?"

"Open it," Loric told him.

Alaric opened the box to find a set of five clear crystals in the box. They were long and Alaric could feel the power radiating from them. He retrieved one with a bare hand and stared into the brilliant crystal. Just one crystal felt like a cool flame in his hands.

"Just one of those has the power to save thousands of lives," Loric said.

"Or destroy them," Alaric added before he gathered the jewels in a leather sack. "We should destroy these."

"If I could do it, I would have done it a long time ago," Loric told him. "It would take a power like Xendor's to make them shatter and there's no guarantee that even he could do it if he wanted to do it."

Alaric briefly pondered the situation before saying, "If the crystals can boost our power, why don't you use it to destroy the invading army?"

"That would lead to the dark side, Alaric," Loric said. "That would be an atrocity."

"It's no different than what they want to do to us," Alaric argued before sighing. "These jewels are far too powerful for one man."

"We need to find a way to get offworld," Loric told him. "The jewels need to be returned to Tython. I hear there are spaceports in Vesuvius, but the major roads are host to the armies of King Romulus. We'll have to travel through Rus if we want to bypass them. The northern passes are practically Vesuvian free."

"But what about my vision?" Alaric asked the Jedi. "I still have to help my father. I agreed to help you find the jewels. If you want to go to Tython or wherever it is, you're on your own."

"Alaric, it's far too dangerous to return to the village at this point," he said. "I've sensed something terrible is about to happen and neither of us have the strength to take on whatever this dark force is. It's not Xendor, so it could only be his right hand."

"It's safer than getting ambushed by Rus raiders," Alaric told him. "Just lend me one crystal and I can fight this evil."

"You already said the jewels held too much power for one man," Loric said. "If just one of those fell into the hands of Set or Xendor, it would be much too frightening to imagine the outcome. I can't let you have them. They belong to the Jedi."

Alaric dropped the sack and glared at Loric. "Take them," he said. "My father needs me." He stormed out of the chamber.

"Your father is beyond your help now, Alaric!" Loric exclaimed. "Coming here with me saved your life!"

Alaric did not bother to reply to him and instead exited the tomb. His horse remained there, waiting for him. He untied his horse and mounted it. "Let's go," he said before he began his journey back to the village.


End file.
